


Ties that Bind

by UselessLilium (o0whitelily0o)



Category: Cardfight!! Vanguard
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Implied Luard/Kazuma, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 14:38:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16389587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/o0whitelily0o/pseuds/UselessLilium
Summary: Soulmate AU - Shared injury marksNo matter what else happened, Kazumi always took comfort in knowing that there was someone out there, on the other end of this bond, who'd need him.





	Ties that Bind

When you were born, you already had scars. Not real ones, but violet imitations of them. By the time you’re old enough to understand what they mean, covering them up has become a matter of course. They’re unsightly, your mother insists, and the only silver lining is that there’s none on your face yet. Most of them, you can cover up with your clothes, like the one on your upper arm or your hip. A few need more particular attention.

“Honestly,” she sighs, as she teaches you how to apply concealer to the thin one just above your collarbone, “I can’t imagine any decent person being so careless with their soulmate’s appearance.”

Your appearance isn’t the only issue, of course. If that were it, your father wouldn’t be insisting that you take these measures as well. The Onimaru family is important, and very wealthy. If your marks stand out too much, people might be tempted to imitate them and present themselves as your soulmate. Try to worm their way into your family, even if it means injuring themselves. You have to be very careful not to show anyone.

You’re not sure how your soulmate is going to find you, if you always hide your marks. But you suppose that’s also part of the point. If they’re really your soulmate, they’ll find you no matter what. 

When you finally get curious enough to ask, your parents do admit to being each other’s soulmates. But that’s less common than the stories make it out to be, particularly for someone in your father’s position. It’s standard in marriage meetings to inflict a small wound on yourself, to test whether that bond exists. But it’s only one factor taken into consideration. Soulmates aren’t always a romantic connection, and marriage is a responsibility. The heir to the Onimaru house needs to approach it practically.

You must have accidentally let some of your disappointment show when he tells you that, because your father narrows his eyes and explains further, “For one thing, whoever this person is, they’re clearly too old.” With no small amount of derision in his voice, he grabs your arm and pushes your sleeve back to look at one of the scars you were born with, a jagged one near your shoulder. “As head of the family, you’ll need someone who can be a proper mother for your children. For that, a younger woman will be far more suitable.”

You don’t pull out of his hold, just wait for him to let go. and try not to think about what he’s just said too deeply. It makes you feel strange. Almost queasy, really.

“Also, honestly Kazumi, they’re clearly a very... let’s say,  _ rough _ person,” your mother says, with a sigh and shake of her head. “Just because they can be of use to you in some way doesn’t mean they’d be a fit member of the family. Perhaps as a bodyguard, but...”

“Well, never mind all of that,” your father says and pats your shoulder, just over the scar, in that way that means the conversation is over, even though you’ve barely said a word since you’re first question. “At the end of the day, a soulmate is only one person. And if they’re truly worthy of you, they’ll support you in everything, not hinder you.” Your mother preens a little at that, and proudly states her agreement.

So he says. But later at night, after you’ve washed off the concealer and can see all the markings for what they are, you think about the person passing them on to you. A person your family doesn’t know. A person your family can’t choose for you. It’s a connection that belongs only to you, and there’s nothing they can do about it.

A warmth bursts in your chest at the thought, and you find yourself tracing your fingers on a series of scratch marks that appeared on your chest earlier. Even before you were born, you were meant for this person, in some way. Whoever they are, you want to find them. You want to know what you can do for them that no one else can.

 

* * *

 

It feels a bit silly, when a similar sentiment attracts you to Vanguard. You’d seen your classmates playing it, and overheard them bragging about their avatars. When you managed to ask one of them more about it, the explanation gripped you immediately. A game all about having a special connection to beings far away, who are in need of strength only you can give. Just thinking about it makes your heart beat faster, and you have to keep yourself from touching your scars fondly.

You try to talk yourself out of your interest. After all, who would you even play with? You come home right after school, so you won’t have much time to play with your classmates. Even if you did, it’d probably be strange to act so familiar all of a sudden. You’ve got some cousins close to your age, but you don’t know if any of them play. Really, you barely talk to them too. Sometimes their parents sort of push them into it, and they’re always either annoyed at having to, or nervous about doing something wrong in front of you. It’s hard to imagine asking any of them to play a card game.

Then... there’s your little brother. But if asking your classmates or cousins is hard to imagine, asking him is impossible. You know he’s scared of you. Every time you’ve seen him, he’s always so nervous and barely even looks at you. And your father is so strict about him staying out of your wing of the house, and what he’s allowed to call you... anyone would be frightened off by that.

No matter how much you’d like to talk to him, you don’t want to make things harder for him by singling him out like that, or put him in a position where he feels like he has to play with you. Avoiding those problems are all much, much more important.

But despite all of these very good points you make to yourself, you still catch yourself browsing Vanguard websites when you can, and even sneak a magazine or two about the game home with you. Even if you can’t play, there’s so many clans and cards... just reading about them is interesting. There’s no reason you can’t do that, right?

And eventually, that’s how you meet Shiranui.

In a way, it’s not surprising he catches your eye. You’ve always liked dragons, after all. But there’s a lot of dragons in this game - a whole continent of them, in fact - and Shiranui still jumps off the page when you first see him. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s almost the same shade of violet as your markings. Maybe it’s just how bright his blue eyes are, the way they seem to be looking right into you. But regardless of what first caught your attention, what holds it is the short description written about him.

A young leader of a small clan of ninja, struggling to make their mark and rise up out of obscurity. It’s not much information, but... as you read it, match it with the confident, powerful figure in the illustration, it catches your imagination.

He really does look strong, you think. And he’s putting it all towards the future of his whole clan. There’s no ambivalence or doubt in his pose, or in his bright blue eyes. For him to be so determined... he must care about them all a lot.  _ Really  _ care, not just put up with everything they expect from him out of duty or because he can’t see any other option.

It’s a wonderful thought. He’s wonderful, you feel sure of that. Someone like that... who wouldn’t want to help him?

Before you know it, you’ve bought the cards - him, and every unit listed as a clan member of his. Obviously you can’t just seperate them, not if he’s working hard for their sakes. Whether the cards themselves are strong, you don’t care. You’ll find ways to use them all to the best of their abilities. For the first time in longer than you can remember, you find yourself bursting with determination of your own. You’ll do whatever it takes to be a fit Vanguard for him.

 

* * *

 

When your little brother approaches you on his own for the first time, in the middle of arranging your deck, a part of you wonders if Shiranui is to thank for this opportunity too. You smile, and don’t hesitate to beckon Kazuma closer.

* * *

 

Kazuma has his own marks already too, you find out. His are a pretty teal color, and he always seems caught between awe and embarrassment when a new one appears. Unlike yours, they tend to appear suddenly and heal very quickly. Even some that look like burns usually fade in a few hours. There’s only a few actual scars. No one expects him to cover his up as rigorously as you either.

The two of you try to guess, sometimes, what kind of people are on the other end of these markings. “Maybe yours is in some kind of gang,” he whispers, eyes sparking in fascination at the possibility, “Since they seem to fight a whole lot.”

You’re not sure. It’s the kinds of wounds your soulmate earns himself that makes you doubt the idea. On most people, you tend to see phantom bruises and scrapes. But for you, it always seems to be cuts of some kind. They do worry you, more and more as you get older and realize just how dangerous they must have been to receive. The one on your neck... a little higher, a little deeper, it might have killed them.

But there’s no need for Kazuma to worry about any of that himself, so you just laugh a little, and say, “Or maybe they’re just clumsy.”

But he shakes his head right away. “No way, not yours.” He looks at your shoulder, at the scrapes just under the cloth of your shirt. “Everyone says a soulmate’s someone you need, right? Someone like that, for you... they’ve gotta be amazing.” Then he grins a little sheepishly, and looks at the back of his hand where another burn’s appeared. “Mine, though...”

“Don’t say that. Look, they always heal quickly, don’t they? They must be really tough. The kind of person who always works hard and keeps going, whatever happens.” You pat his head, and give him the brightest smile you can. “A really, really amazing person. Just like you deserve.”

He smiles back, but instead of agreeing, says, “Well, whatever, none of that’s important right now. Let’s hurry and play already!” He pulls out his deck, grinning. “I’m definitely gonna win today!”

 

* * *

 

When he’s gone, there’s at least comfort in knowing someone special is still out there waiting for him. Maybe now that he’s out of this house, he can actually find them. Be cared for the way he deserves. You should’ve known you weren’t the person best suited for that. You never were.

 

* * *

 

As you get older, new injuries are less and less common. Only the scars your soulmate’s already left on you prove to you that they’re still alive. But that change is a relief. You hope it means they’re safer now... you really can’t even imagine what kind of life they must have had, to wind up with so many scars. There’s so much you’ll have to learn about them when you finally get to meet.

Every now and then, you think about the injuries you’ve earned yourself over the years. Some scrapes from sports and self-defense classes. A bruise here and there from a quick, corrective slap. The occasional paper cut. Never anything significant. You wonder if any of that would even stand out on this person. If they even know you’re here.

You want them to know. You want them to find you. They’re your soulmate, and you’re theirs, they must need you for  _ something _ .

Maybe... maybe if you gave yourself a more obvious injury. Something they couldn’t miss, just so they know. Or something you could spot on someone else, see if you can find them on your own. But you don’t quite dare. Hurting yourself that obviously would draw attention. You don’t know what your parents’ reactions would be, but that just makes you more anxious at the idea. When you see Miguel and Verno in person for the first time, you do cut the back of your hand. Just a little, just to see if maybe... but there’s still nothing. You end the tournament with no more of an idea who you belong to than before.

You try to tell yourself there’s still time. You’ve only just started university. But your mother’s already bringing up marriage meetings more seriously, and your father’s getting more and more impatient with the excuses you come up with to avoid making your inheritance official. Maybe you can stave them off for a few more years, but... you can’t imagine it’ll be much longer until you’re trapped in this house completely.

...Though even if you did meet them, you don’t know if it would make enough of a difference. As long as there’s a chance your father might call Kazuma back to the house and make him the heir instead, you can’t leave. But... who knows? A soulmate is someone you’re supposed to need, so maybe... maybe they can find an answer you can’t. Maybe they’ll know how to help you. Maybe...

Until then, you at least have your deck and Shiranui. The only other thing no one can take away from you.

 

* * *

 

Then one day you wake up absolutely covered in wounds. There’s so many, but the one you keep going back to is a deep, raw-looking gash on your side... you don’t know if it’s still bleeding on them or not, but you press your hands against it, like you can hold it closed for them if you just try hard enough.

You can barely breathe, you can’t take your eyes off of them. Any second now, you’re sure they’ll all start to fade. Why are you always so  _ selfish _ ? How could you even waste time thinking about how they might help you? You’re the one who needs to help them. They’re still in danger, whoever they are.  _ Real _ danger, not... not your useless whining.

When your mother tries to coax you out of your room, you refuse and insist on taking the day off from school. She takes one good look at you, and doesn’t try to dissuade you. The color is so vibrant, even concealer might not cover the larger ones up.

You barely move all day, just watching the injuries painted onto you. Willing them to not disappear. You won’t ask them for anything, you swear to the bond between the two of you, never, no matter when you finally meet. Not as long as they just stay alive.

But the marks don’t fade at all. They stay bright and vibrant, even when you fall asleep despite your best efforts. They’ve changed color a little by the time you wake up, but even the worst of your paranoia can’t convince you that it’s anything but the familiar shift towards either healing or scarring. As proof, the old scars are exactly the same colors as they were last night. You still want to take another day off from classes, just to watch and make sure everything’s really fine. But this time, your father refuses to allow it. “You’re not the one hurt,” he snaps, “And you’re not a child. You can’t call everything to a screeching halt like this over every little worry.”

You know better than to argue against him. You use concealer on the marks on your face, and fortunately have no shortage of long sleeves and turtlenecks to cover most of the rest. Gloves too, your mother insists, to be safe.

Even so, you barely absorb a word you hear in class that day. Instead, you keep rolling your sleeve back to check, over and over, whether the dark violet markings are still there.

 

* * *

 

As bad and as many as there were, almost all of them have disappeared, when you finally hear his voice. Sometimes when you’ve played Vanguard, you thought you’d heard it then too. But this time is unmistakable, right in the middle of the day, and you know it in your core. When you see Shiranui before you, it’s almost not even a surprise.

And then you’re swallowed up by chains and darkness and feel yourself somehow pushed out of your body, while he steps in.

It’s frightening... it’s frightening, but more than that it just doesn’t feel real. It can’t be, Shiranui isn’t real in the first place. You’re... dreaming. Or having a breakdown. Something, anyway. You keep telling yourself this, even as you feel both trapped and bound while vaguely aware of your body continuing to move through the house. Speaking to people. No one notices anything different. There’s nothing very surprising about that either.

At least with everything so muffled, it’s easy to drift off. To just... let this happen, whatever it is. If it’s a dream, you’ll wake up eventually. If it’s a breakdown, it’s not a very disruptive one. If it’s... really Shiranui... then he must have a reason for it. He must, you think as you shift and feel the chains around your arms tighten, he wouldn’t... just do this to you.

You can’t tell how much time has passed, when you feel him stop short. Distantly, you’re aware that he’s looking in a mirror. There’s some embarrassment, still, when you feel him touch the first scar. It’s drowned out quickly as he touches another, and then another, and with each one you feel him recalling a memory. Training exercises gone wrong. A mission he performed while still a novice. A trap he knocked one of his comrades away from only to get the brunt of it himself. Fights and accidents, each one distinct, and as he starts to realize what it means, you do too. 

You found him. He found you. You know who you’re for, who you’ve always been for, and despite everything you’re so deeply happy, you’d never have even dreamed it was him, you could cry for what this means to you. 

And then he touches the gash still on your side. And that happiness is snuffed out by grief and hatred, drowning you in memories of betrayal and pain and so many dead, all of them, every single one but him. Noroi, Seizui, Genkai, everyone...

“It really was you,” he hisses, and you can’t tell if it’s thoughts or voice, “This whole time, you’ve been twisting our fates. Poisoning them with your weakness and need.” He bares his - your? - teeth, snarling, “You wanted me to live? To meet me? Very well, Kazumi, here I am. And I swear, I  _ will _ free myself of you. I’ll free all of Cray, whatever it takes.”

You can’t speak. Can’t protest. You have no right to even try.

He’s right. There’s no reason in the world why someone like him would need you. For you... for you to be his soulmate, there must be something deeply wrong. Something that needs to be corrected. But you feel the weight of his determination, and know he can do it. You’re sure of that. You let him bury you deeper and deeper down into the dark, and don’t bother with wondering what will be left to you when he’s won. It doesn’t matter. You’d rather have nothing than take anything else from him.


End file.
